Risk
by Chellero
Summary: A chance meeting leads to...other things. Carter/Reese.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Many thanks to wolfmusic218 for this one!

John Reese stood in front of the wide array of pasta sauce in a quiet aisle of the grocery store, one hand holding his shopping basket, the other holding a jar of sauce. It was Saturday afternoon and he had just finished depositing troubled teenager Eric Salisman with his parents in Brooklyn. He and Finch had fortunately kept the kid from doing something he'd later regret- namely murder. Reese shook his head to himself. It started so young sometimes. Trouble, debauchery, evil. Demons knew no age limit it seemed. Or simply didn't care. He put the sauce back and picked up another one. He had stopped at the grocery store on his way back home, suddenly in the mood for lasagna. Lasagna and spinach. With a side of ciabatta. Take-out, even in New York City, got old at times. And sometimes he felt guilty not taking advantage of the expansive kitchen his loft offered. Having lived on the streets not two years ago, knowing the people he left behind when he vacated those streets, he felt he needed to do a better job of appreciating what he now had.

"I'd go with the store brand. It's actually better."

He turned, a broad grin on his face, as he watched Joss Carter approach him pushing a shopping cart. She was smiling, looking relaxed in black capri leggings and a white tunic, flat black sandals on her feet. It took seeing her this way to realize he never saw her this way: dressed so casually, fresh-faced, at ease. But he did a better job of hiding his surprise than she did. Competing with her smile was the most curious expression. Like seeing him in a grocery store was the wildest thing she'd ever seen. And the woman lived in New York City. "Thanks." He put the jar he held back on the shelf and got the store brand, depositing it into his basket.

"What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

"Finishing up some business. Needed to get a few things." He looked at her, smirking at the look that remained on her face as she stuck her nose in his basket.

Carter knew she was being nosey. She knew it. But this spectacle in front her? It begged for it. John Reese, in his signature suit, at a grocery store. Buying groceries. She knew he had to eat but...wow. It was just...weird. In a really weird way. She noted the lasagna noodles and ricotta cheese. Just plain weird. He could cook? "You cook, John?" She raised her head from his basket and raised an eyebrow. The shocks to her system just kept coming.

"Gotta eat, Carter." He watched as she accepted that answer.

"True."

Carter began walking. A few feet down was the pesto she needed to get. Reese walked with her. "Where's Taylor?"

"Home. Doing his chores hopefully." She reached her target and placed it in her cart. She saw Reese decide to return the favor from earlier by sticking his nose in her cart. He picked up the bottle of vanilla citrus liqueur and held it up.

"Drinking tonight, Carter?"

She smirked at him this time as she pushed her cart forward, still on a mission, needing several more items before she could leave the store and get back home. "It's for my vanilla orange Bundt cake. Lot of work but worth it. Taylor's favorite," she added. She watched as he put the bottle back in her cart before she stopped suddenly. "Shoot. I gotta go back. Forgot eggs." She began turning her cart around, preparing to say goodbye to him while she backtracked through the store. He probably didn't have everything he needed yet either and wanted to be on his way.

But he turned with her.

She decided not to say anything, odd as it was to be grocery shopping with John. He clearly was in no hurry and she didn't want to appear rude by suggesting he go on without her. Odd it was. Atypical to say the least. But it was mildly comforting. Almost...pleasant. Being around him usually stressed her out. Where he went, trouble followed. When he was around her, he usually wanted something from her. But take the man out of those settings and he was...different. Trouble wasn't following him now. At least not yet. He wasn't breaking the law. He wasn't pummeling people who were no match for him. He wasn't keeping a watchful eye over someone. He wasn't tense, focused, alert. He was just a guy shopping in the grocery store.

And damn if the whole thing still wasn't weird.

They walked to the dairy section so she could grab some eggs. The trip over must have triggered a reminder for him because he took a few steps down and picked up a carton of Lactaid milk. "You lactose intolerant?"

"No."

She looked at him, thinking he was going to elaborate. But when he didn't, she shrugged.

He glanced at her and chuckled to himself before continuing alongside her as she resumed her shopping. He was finished getting what he needed but, for some reason, he was enjoying the company. Well, it wasn't just some reason he knew. He liked being around her. And being around her right now was making him feel like he did before the CIA: normal. So he stayed with her while she continued her shopping. She didn't seem to mind, filling the conversational space by asking him what dishes he fixed, if he baked, and what other secrets about himself he had up his sleeve.

"Can you fix cars?" They were in the frozen food section now. She needed some frozen vegetables and Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

"No. Can you?" He knew the basics, enough to get by. No sense in telling her he could and then get caught with egg on his face down the line one day.

She opened the glass door housing the ice cream. "I can change a tire. I used to know how to change the oil but it's been so long..." She found the Oatmeal Cookie Chunk she was looking for and chucked it into her cart. "Like ice cream?"

"Strawberry's my favorite."

"Hmm." They walked until they reached the frozen vegetable aisle. "Know anything about plumbing?"

"Even less than I do about cars." He frowned, looking into the frozen food case at the brussel sprouts as he came up with a question of his own. "How do you cook brussel sprouts? That's one thing I've never tried to do."

She shrugged as she picked through the frozen vegetables. "I never eat them either. I know you can fry them." Once she tossed everything she needed into her cart, she grabbed the handle and pondered. "I think that's it."

"No list?"

She grimaced. "Yeah, I usually do but I forgot it." She shrugged one shoulder and began pushing the cart. "Oh well. Whatever I forgot I'll get it later."

Together, they headed toward the checkout lanes. "Know how to fix a compu- ? Oh, hell, never mind."

"Finch," they both said simultaneously and laughed.

He smiled at her, her questions both amusing him and making him curious. "Got a lot of things broken around the house, Carter?"

She laughed. "No. Just wondering what else I could use you for." She looked up at him before continuing. "Apparently not much." She grinned, making sure he knew she was kidding.

He let another small chuckle escape his lips. "Yeah, well, if anybody ever messes with you, I'm your man."

She frowned as they made it to the end of a line. "Hell, John, I can do that myself. What else you got?"

"Well, what else do you need?"

She decided, after a couple of seconds, not to read anything into what he'd just said and how he'd said it. They were in a grocery store after all. And she knew he could turn on the Flirt And Charm when he wanted. No need to question why he chose that moment. Or her for a target. "I'll get back to you."

He had ended up in front of her in the line so after he placed his basket on the belt he helped her load her items. When it was his turn, the cashier asked if the basket was all he had. He nodded his head toward the end of the conveyor belt, indicating Carter's items that sat before the orange separator she placed behind her things. "That, too."

"John." There were people behind her as she stood behind her cart, its length separating her from John. She really didn't want to make a scene. But why was he about to pay for her groceries? It was so not necessary. And she had a lot of shit. The liqueur alone was going to jack up her bill about thirty dollars. Her mouth was open in unspoken protest as he shot her a mischievous look.

"I want that cake."

She closed her mouth and smirked at him. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable with this arrangement; she inched her way past the cart to stand next to him, watching the screen total as it rose, wanting to know how much she was about to set him back. "I can pay for this, John." She spoke quietly and sternly.

"I know."

She looked up at him but he ignored her, watching as the items were scanned. She sighed and went back to the cart, maneuvering it around him so the bags could be placed in it.

It was then that it struck her. She was feeling how she did when she used to go grocery shopping with her husband. Why was she thinking about that? Why was she feeling that way? Why was it such a welcome feeling?

And why was she sad it was almost over?

She stood by while John paid the cashier in cash and followed alongside him as he took over the reins of the cart. "You didn't have to do that, but thank you."

"You're welcome." He turned to look down at her. "I was serious about that cake."

"I told you that cake was a lot of work."

He faced forward as they walked through the automatic doors. "Still want it."

She let out a loud exasperated sigh this time. "Fine. But don't hold your breath. I don't know when I'll be able to make it. Taylor has first dibs."

"I'll remind you. Where'd you park?"

"Over there." She shook her head. He was going to load up her car for her, too. She liked it. This whole unexpected encounter was making her day, making her feel good. Special. She really was sad it was almost over. Who would have thought he of all people could make her feel this way? She wondered what he was like when he wasn't working. What he did in his free time. What his hobbies were, what he enjoyed. If he even had anything outside of his work to keep him occupied.

She unlocked the trunk and he helped her load the groceries inside. When they were finished, she closed it and looked at his two bags that remained in the cart. "So what are your plans for the rest of the day, after the lasagna?"

He shrugged. "Probably read a few chapters, go get a haircut." He watched her face as she nodded in approval.

"Hmm, another surprise." She liked that. That he was a reader. "Mystery or self-help?" She didn't peg him as the romance novel type.

"Both. Gotta keep my skills honed." He headed to the driver's side of her car and opened the unlocked door. She grabbed her purse from the front of the cart and slipped into the driver's seat.

"Thanks, John."

"You're welcome. Be careful going home." And with that he shut her door, moved the cart from behind her car, and stood out of the way as she backed out, briefly waving to her as she pulled off.

He swallowed. That lonesome feeling. It was a real bitch sometimes. He felt it at that moment as he took his bags from the cart before parking it in the receptacle. He didn't want his time with her to end, but like with all good things, it did. It had to. Because he was feeling much too content while he was with her. In a grocery store of all places. The last time he felt happy, spoke it aloud in fact, things had gone south. In a big way. And he'd nearly brought her down with him. Still, it wasn't enough to keep him away from her. It should have been, but it wasn't. And he wasn't too keen on analyzing why. He had enough on his plate to worry about anyway.

He pulled his keys from his pocket and got into his car. But his mind wouldn't let it go.

She was his friend and he didn't have many. She was attractive. His other friends, well, weren't. Not in that way. There was Zoe Morgan. Beautiful, smart, but not for him. Not for anybody really. Kind of like he thought he was. Off limits, unattainable.

She had risked everything to help him. To keep him from going down for crimes he did and didn't commit. Without him asking. And she had had a hell of a lot to lose. What had he ever risked for her? Truly? Nothing really. Bottlecap, that HR goon, Elias' armed henchmen, none of them were any match for him. Not really. None of what he did took anything out of him. None of it was outside of the norm. None of it anything he wouldn't do for anybody else. What _could_ he risk for her?

It was beating in his chest. That was what. And he knew it. His most prized possession. In spite of himself, in spite of it all- his sordid past, his complicated present, his uncertain future- it was what he wanted. It hadn't hit him until days after his incarceration and kidnapping had ended. And when it did, he forced it into the darkest recesses of his mind, refusing to let it out. Having latent feelings for her didn't mean she had them for him. It didn't mean he should act on them. It didn't mean everything would suddenly be right in his world if he did.

But still, he'd been given yet another chance. Another chance at life. What could he do differently this time? What should he? He finally turned the key in the ignition and headed home.

* * *

"The things people do for money." Two weeks later, John stood at the board in the library, helping Harold remove the photos, scans, and printouts related to their last stressful case involving a mother wanting to murder her own child.

"Or for power." Finch shifted his torso to look at his friend before turning back to his task. Even he had been shocked at the turn this case had made. While it remained true that having children was a crapshoot as far as how they turned out; he had fast learned there was no telling what kind of parent certain people would turn out to be either.

Handing his paperwork to Finch for disposal, Reese walked over to where Bear was lounging. The dog perked up when he realized he had company and Reese knelt down to roughhouse with his partner in crime.

After the dog knocked him onto his back a few times, he rose and walked over to where Finch stood shredding documents. "Want to go get a drink?" Anything to get the taste of this last one out of their mouths. He watched as Harold sighed deeply and stiffly turned toward him.

"Another time, Mr. Reese? I have the faintest of headaches burgeoning right now." It was an understatement really. He wanted to swallow a bottle of ibuprofen, slide under the covers, and not emerge until next week.

"Drink'll help with that."

"Somehow I doubt that, Mr. Reese." Finch watched as a _Well, I tried_ smile crossed Reese's features. His friend needed to expand his social circle. Somehow, he didn't think John was meant to be a loner like he was. But how to go about expanding it, considering what they did? He didn't have an answer to that one.

Reese tapped his ear piece when he felt his pocket vibrate. "Carter? I was just trying to find something to do and someone to do it with." He smirked to himself.

"I have your cake ready."

A surprised look spread across his face. He wasn't expecting his cake so soon. He hadn't forgotten, but he was planning on giving her a little more time before he began to tease her about it. "That was fast."

"Yeah, well, you know I had a half day today. When are you coming to get it?"

It was strange. Talking to her like this. No business. No case. Just cake and an invitation to go to her house. It was throwing him. But he liked it. He turned and looked at Harold for a second. "Uh, give me thirty minutes." He hung up with her and headed over to the cluttered shelf in the corner. He soon walked back over to where Finch was seated, placing a bottle of water and Advil in front of him. He turned on his heel and headed out. "Don't stay up too late, Finch." He gave Bear a farewell ruffle. "You too, Bear."

He descended the stairs in short order, maneuvering his way out of the slightly dilapidated building before reaching the sidewalk. Turning the corner, he was served a mini shock: Carter. In relaxed attire once again. Purse slung over one shoulder. Cake holder in the crook of her arm. _How do you like me now?_ look on her face. He walked several more feet until he was standing in front of her. He plastered a smirk on his face to hide his surprise. She was good. She was damn good. He couldn't care less but he wasn't so sure paranoid Harold would feel the same. Guess they would find out soon enough. His raised eyebrow must have asked the question. Because she answered.

"How did I know? I'm a detective, John." She handed him the cake cover.

The slight cock of his head asked the other question.

"How long? Few months." After he took his cake, she placed her hands on her hips, quite satisfied with herself. She had thrown him for a loop, knocked him off balance a little for once, and would wow him with her baking skills in short order. Yeah, she _was_ good.

"What are you doing out here so late by yourself?"

She looked at him incredulously. "How old am I, John?"

He thought about being a smartass and actually telling her her age. But he weighed the cons and decided against it. He started slowly walking and she followed suit. It was nice out. And he wasn't ready for her to take off now that she'd delivered his cake. "Still shouldn't be out here alone."

Was he forgetting she was former military? And a cop? It was nice, though. Having someone worry about her when she was out late. Damn, she needed a man. "I wanted to surprise you but I don't know where you live. You bought me over a hundred dollars' worth of groceries, the least I can do is deliver it to you." She shrugged. "Besides, figured Harold might want some."

"Yeah, I'm not sharing, Carter."

She made eye contact with him briefly and smiled.

"How'd you get here?"

"Drove." She pointed straight ahead to her car. They were already walking in the right direction.

"So you know where we work but you don't know where I live?"

"None of my business really."

He didn't know why that bothered him. She cared enough to find out where he worked but not where he lived? "You know where your other friends live, don't you?"

"Yeah, but you're not like my other friends."

"Really."

She looked up at him before facing forward again. "You're not exactly forthcoming about things, John. I don't exactly hang out with you. And my other friends don't have me breaking the law I swore to uphold. At least not all the time." Oh, it sounded worse when she said it out loud. How was he getting her to do the things she did? How did he get her to do the things she did inside Rikers and before? Had to be some kind of mind control. Some kind of mental jujitsu. No telling what they taught them to do to unsuspecting individuals in the CIA.

They reached her car. He was quiet so she asked him how he got there to break the silence.

"My bike." He looked at the cake in his hands and frowned.

She would have offered to give him a lift. But she truly suspected he didn't want her to know where he lived. Their arrangement being what it was, it wasn't necessary, so she never bothered with trying to find out. Even though he knew all of her business, personal or otherwise.

"Mind giving me a lift?" It wasn't necessary in the least. He could take one of the cars in Finch's private garage a block down. But maybe it was time to be a little more forthcoming.

"You want me to drive you home?" Skepticism. It was all over her face.

He stepped closer to her, shattering her personal space perimeter- she swore she actually felt the glass shards- and reached into her purse, withdrawing her visible keys to unlock the doors with the remote. He then reached around her to open her door.

And damn if she didn't feel like dropping her panties right there. The maleness was just dripping off him in that moment as he looked down at her. Still in her space. With a damn cake in his hand. Only him. _Lord have mercy_. Swallowing- it happened without her consent- she escaped the inferno and settled into the driver's seat. She stared straight ahead as he closed her door, opened the back door to deposit the cake, and rounded the vehicle to occupy the front passenger's seat.

Well, she'd had a few seconds to get it together anyway. And they were going to have to be enough. Because she needed to drive without causing an accident. That would be good. Getting them to their respective destinations in one piece.

"It's not far from here." He pointed straight ahead and she pulled out into traffic.

It took about ten minutes until they reached his building. He directed her to the underground garage. It was in a swanky part of town. And she immediately became certified jealous. "Nice, John." She pulled into a spot next to a car she recognized as one of his. She wondered how many damn cars he had. Putting the car in park, she waited for him to get out. He did, rounding the vehicle once again to open the back door and retrieve his cake. She reached her hand out for the button to roll down the window in order to say goodnight but the door opened instead. She looked at him quizzically. Was he really about to take her up to his place? Was it wise for her to go? He had her wanting to drop her drawers in the middle of the sidewalk; what the hell would happen if they were in private? She looked at the clock on her dash. It was only nine-thirty. She couldn't realistically pull the _It's late, I gotta go_ card. And her sixteen-year-old son knew not to let strangers in. She watched as he settled the cake in the crook of his right arm and held his left hand out to her.

Jesus, he wanted her to take his hand. Physical contact. Good lord have mercy not now. Not when she was suddenly feeling some kind of way about him. Reaching down to grab her purse, she shouldered it, took the key out of the ignition, and took his proffered hand, thrilled she didn't combust at the contact. Once he helped her out of the car, he dropped her hand. Thank goodness.

She stole a glance at him as he led her into the building. He was looking so attractive tonight. So very attractive. Tall, lean, acting chivalrous, wearing the hell out of his suit. Worrying about her being out by herself at night. Was he always oozing sex and she just didn't notice? Was she wearing blinders before?

It wasn't long before they reached his door. He reached into his pocket for the key, unlocked the door, and waited for her to enter before he followed. When the light came on, she swept her eyes around the perimeter, that jealous pang hitting her even harder. Lucky bastard. She walked until she was centered in the open space and watched as John walked past her, grabbed a remote from the coffee table, and the blinds over the numerous floor-to-ceiling windows came down. He then turned and headed toward his kitchen, cake in hand. She turned in a circle to take the entirety of the place in. "So, when can Taylor and I move in?" She moved to the couch and deposited her bag.

"Anytime," he responded from the kitchen, grabbing two plates and setting them on the bar before washing his hands at the sink. The cake Carter made for him? He wanted it in his mouth yesterday.

She headed over to the opposite side of the bar. "I'm gonna have to ask Finch for a job application."

"You won't like the hours."

"Taylor'll be off to college in a couple years. I think I can swing it."

He held a knife in his hand and was preparing to cut the cake. "Want some?"

"No. I already overdosed on it a couple weeks ago." She watched as he cut himself a slice and placed it on one of the plates. She was fascinated by the simple act. Once again, seeing him in such a different setting was making her see him in a new light. One she really liked. It was still weird, but in a way, slightly less so. It was less jarring now. She was already becoming desensitized to off-the-clock John.

"Want anything to drink?" He headed toward the refrigerator and opened the door. "Water, beer, Dr. Pepper, chocolate milk..."

_Chocolate milk_. The man drank chocolate milk. She had to smile at that. And she had to give him ten mental brownie points for the Dr. Pepper. It was her favorite soda. "Water's fine." She accepted the bottle of water he offered her. "Thanks." She watched as he stood there and took a bite of the cake, suddenly nervous that he might not like it. It wasn't like her. The only things that made her nervous were shootouts and dental appointments. Now she was going to have to add something else to that list. She was going to have to add him.

John chewed slowly, wanting to savor and appreciate her efforts. The "a lot of work" cake she baked from scratch. For him. It was different, to be sure. He was more of a white or chocolate or marbled cake kind of guy. But it was delightful. He watched her watch him, a look of nervous anticipation on her face. That was a new one. Carter wasn't one he associated with nervousness. It was beautiful, though. She was beautiful.

He decided to put her at ease. "If you ever decide to quit the force, and you don't want to do law, you have a future in baked goods, Carter."

She smiled, a self-satisfied smile, and didn't realize until she let it out that she had been holding her breath.

He rounded the bar, plate in one hand, fork in the other, and parked his lean form beside her. He leaned his back against the counter and took another bite. "Why did you give it up?"

"What?"

"Law."

She didn't remember telling him anything about that. But for a second she forgot who she was talking to. She took a swig of her water. "Got bored halfway through law school. But I always have to finish what I start so..." She let her voice trail off. That was part of it anyway. Her father had been so proud of her embarking on it in the first place. He was positively determined to have a doctor and a lawyer in the family. Her parents didn't get the doctor, but one out of two wasn't bad. Or maybe 0.5 out of two since she wasn't practicing. After he passed, she made a promise to herself to finish in honor of his memory. After her discharge, when she thought she needed some calm in her life, she finally took the bar exam, thinking a nice, safe job was what she and her family needed. It didn't last long, though. Not at all.

John looked down at her, still amazed that she'd found the time between deployments, policing, and motherhood to become a lawyer. Intelligent, passionate, compassionate. Tough, feminine, sexy. He didn't deserve her but who did? Maybe, just maybe, the guy who wanted her. "Just weren't meant for a desk job."

"Exactly."

Silence permeated the air around them and she took another sip of her water while John polished off the cake. As he reached behind himself to set the empty plate on the counter, her voice, soft and determined, brought him out of his reverie.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Six words he never liked to hear directed at him. They always led somewhere. Somewhere he often didn't want to go. But he would tamp down that part of himself that wanted to immediately withdraw and take the risk. Be more forthcoming. He turned so he was leaning his side against the bar, facing her, standing probably a little closer than what most people considered comfortable conversation distance. But he couldn't help himself. He wanted to encompass her, the air she breathed. Giving her his full attention, he took a shallow breath. "I'm an open book, Carter." The smirk was planted firmly on his face. His defense mechanism. He figured he was allowed that much.

"Why the suit? _All_ the time? Like every damn time I see you?"

He absolutely could not stop the laugh that poured out of him. That he was not expecting. His whole body had been braced for imminent soul searching, and that was what she asked? He laughed due to the absurdity of it all. And in relief. He stood there for a moment, watching her try to keep herself from laughing. She'd known exactly what she was doing. This woman...

Regaining his composure, he kept the smile on his face. "It's a uniform, Carter. I have to blend in. White guy in a suit; I can pretty much go anywhere."

She finally won the battle against her own laughter and pushed it back. Because, dammit, she really wanted to know. "Yeah, I get that. But it's the same one. Why not switch it up? Gray? Blue?" She needed to see him in a blue one before she died. She really did. She watched as he shrugged and reached out, tugging at one of her earrings.

"Same reason you always wear the same earrings."

She rolled her eyes. He got her there. She was lazy about her accessories, and the earrings went with everything. Her job didn't allow for flashy anyway. He was probably lazy about his clothes in the same manner. Didn't get easier than a black suit and white dress shirt. He probably thought he wasn't being flashy, was blending in with the common folk. Poor fool. Someone should tell him he was too pretty for that. "Yeah, okay, I get it." She wondered if he'd let her see his closet. The likely endless rows of black and white. She wondered if there was any color in there at all.

He continued to smile. Just looking at her as she looked at him. Wanting something from her and trying to decide if he was going to take it.

She sighed. "Let me get out of here, John." She reached out to grab the water bottle cap and screwed it back on. It was time to go. She was feeling that crackle in the air. The one that signified that things between them were definitely a-changin.' She needed to do some thinking before she even remotely considered taking that detour. She could have sex with him. But then what? She headed over to the couch to grab her purse. "I'm sure you have some white dress shirts you need to be ironing or something."

He let another chuckle bubble out of him as he turned to face her. He was doing that a lot around her lately. His eyes followed her. She was making her way toward his door. She must have thought she was about to make a quick, clean escape. She thought wrong. He slowly followed her. "Carter, wait." She stopped and turned. His stride didn't falter as he met her in the center of his loft. He cupped her face in both hands as he took what he wanted.

This must be the high people felt when they won the lottery, he thought. He traced the perimeter of her mouth with his tongue, savoring it like he'd savored the taste of her cake. He angled his head, wanting more. Needing to take more. Her purse was sliding from her shoulder. He moved one hand from her face to take it from her arm and drop it to the floor. His hand went back to her face as he sucked the last of her hesitation into his mouth. Her hands lifted to his head and desperately clawed at his hair as he slowly, expertly coaxed her lips apart, slipping his tongue inside. Molten lava shot through his veins straight to his groin.

This must be what heaven felt like.

He slipped his tongue from inside her mouth for only a moment, changing his angle once more before he tangled it with hers again. He let his hands fall from her face. They slipped from her shoulders to her back then down and around her hips. His lower half was begging, screaming, for more contact. He pulled her into him, quelling the visceral urge as best he could with their clothes still on. He felt her suck his low, guttural groan into her mouth before swallowing it whole. When he realized he was half a second from separating her from her clothing, from taking them to the hardwood floor without ceremony, he brought his hands back up to her face, forcing himself to make the slow descent from the clouds. Forcing himself to slowly tame the hunger, the thirst. To take just a few final sips of her lips. Until he was finally able to pull away without the brutal separation killing him.

Her eyes were wide and searching as the breath tried to find its way back into her body. His chest rose and fell rapidly but he managed to keep his whisper steady and strong. "Thank you for the cake." He watched as she swallowed, her throat probably as dry as his was. She was struggling with finding her voice. He could tell. She only nodded. His hands finally left her face as he leaned down to pick up her purse, slipping it back over her shoulder, letting his fingers slowly caress her bare arm as he slid it back into place. The minuscule distance between them didn't change. Her breasts still brushed his shirt. "I'm going to walk you to your car."

She found her voice. It must have been on the floor with her purse. "Okay." Her chest still heaved as their eyes continued what their lips had ceased.

"I want you to be careful going home."

"Okay." _Okay. Okay. Okay_. She was sounding like an idiot. She knew she was. But he had short circuited her brain. It was fried. She was left there with nothing to work with. She couldn't be blamed for that. She couldn't.

He took a tiny step forward. Just a shift really. So that their bodies were pressing into one another again. So that she could feel the bulge that still strained his pants. She had to crane her neck up even more to maintain eye contact with him. "The next time you come, Joss...Jocelyn...I'm going to make love to you." He tilted his head to his right. "In that bed." He didn't lie. He never lied. He was not a liar. He was giving her fair warning. Letting her know his intentions. Leaving it up to her. Giving her the chance to turn it, him, all of it, down. If she came back, when she came back, it was on. Full speed ahead. If she didn't...

She turned and looked at his bed, throat even more bone dry than it was before. She felt an impossibly large gush of warm liquid pool between her legs, surprised there was any still left in her at all after that kiss. Though it was still overloaded and frazzled, her brain finally decided to stop leaving her hanging. "Okay...then what?" She turned back to him.

"I'm going to do it again." He was serious. He didn't smile. Just kept that intensity pulsating from his eyes, from his entire body. He wasn't even inside her yet and she felt the fantastic fusion of their union.

He waited until she nodded. Waited until he received the acknowledgment he was looking for. The nonverbal agreement to his terms. Satisfied that he'd fulfilled his agenda, he placed his right hand on her hip for a brief moment to turn her around and escorted her to his door. He had to keep his hands to himself. It was critical, paramount to keeping his word. Next time. Not now.

Though it was wordless, surprisingly, the trek down to her car wasn't uncomfortable. A lot had been unleashed upstairs. Even though a tectonic shift had been made in their relationship, there was a quiet peace in knowing. That their attraction was mutual. That they were adults with busy, complicated, dangerous lives who still had desires. For sex, companionship, love. That life was short and they were too old for games.

For the second time that night, he opened her car door for her and waited until she was settled inside before closing the door.

She turned the key in the ignition, far enough so she could roll down the window. He leaned in and watched her. Her brain was back. At eighty percent power. Good enough to get her home in one piece. And just in time to deliver some snark. "Share some of that cake with Harold, John."

He sighed and grumbled, "I'll take him a piece tomorrow."

She reached out and patted his cheek. "Good boy."

Damn. No wonder Bear fell in love with her the minute he met her. "Call me when you get home."

She rolled her eyes. Did she have to remind him again? Who she was and what she did for a living? In spite of the fact that, right now, it was making her giddy inside?

He sighed again. "At least text me."

"Okay."

"Thank you." Like pulling damn teeth getting her to accept he wanted to look out for her.

She turned the key to start the car. "Goodnight, John." She smiled softly to him, a promise in her eyes. A decision.

"Goodnight." He backed away so she could pull out and take off. He waved her off and stood there a moment, quietly wondering how soon she would be back. He smiled to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Carter turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. There was only a small sliver of moonlight filtering through the blinds but it may as well have been the sun's rays in broad daylight. She was wired. Couldn't sleep. She thought about turning on the television and watching until sleep finally called for her. But every single time, before she reached for the remote, she thought about it. She thought about John.

They wouldn't stop. The thoughts. The memories. His lips, his tongue. His eyes, his voice. His words. His hardness pressed against her stomach. Everything she saw, felt, and heard was on a constant loop, replaying in her mind. It was amazing how quickly things could change. How quickly they'd changed for them. When she woke up that morning, she had had no idea. She thought about him. He probably hadn't had any idea either.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand again. 2:08. Tomorrow- today really- was Saturday. She didn't have to go in so the pressure to get some sleep wasn't adding to her frustration. It was her desire. Nothing but her lust and desire, spurred on by the vivid, unrelenting memories. Of his lips, his tongue. His eyes, his voice. His body her own was yearning to sheathe.

It had been so long. So long since she'd felt these feelings, felt another man's touch. And that could have been why she couldn't get the thought of sex with him out of her mind. It should have been why. But that wasn't it. At least not all of it. She smiled as she thought about the text she'd sent him when she got home, per his request. She'd sent him a simple _"I'm home"_ and not fifteen seconds later he'd sent a response: _"Thank you."_ That was it. That was all. Not an _"OK,"_ or a _"Good,"_ or an _"I'm glad. Goodnight."_ Just _"Thank you."_ For humoring him. For respecting his feelings. For acknowledging that he cared. That he cared about her.

And there was no doubt in her mind that she cared about him. She wasn't sure when it happened, when she'd decided to, but it didn't really matter. It was a done deal. Their mutual attraction was a done deal, too. There could be no mistaking or misconstruing what happened at his place. What they wanted to happen next. What was going to happen next.

She closed her eyes as she felt the quaking between her thighs. She wanted to have sex with him. She could admit that. And she was going to have sex with him. There was no question about that. They were grown. They knew what it meant. It wasn't going to be either of their first time at the rodeo. Things between them had already changed irrevocably. She was never going to look at him the same way again regardless. The only question was when. And maybe even why.

She'd always been attracted to him. His actions, his circumstances. Drawn to locking him up when she discovered his presence at dozens of crime scenes. Compelled to understand him once he started resurfacing in her life, leaving criminals in her custody. Intrigued by his words right after he saved her life. Captivated by the charm she discovered lay beneath the ruggedness. Allured by the philanthropic work he did, the fellow soldier she could see in him. Enchanted by the heart that beat beneath his chest.

And, tonight, she'd finally admitted her physical attraction to him. She had had no choice in the matter really, her body's reaction deciding for her. His expressive eyes, his intense focus, the passion he kept tightly wound at his core. She saw all of it, felt all of it, and she wanted more of it.

She reached for her cell phone. Because she couldn't sleep. And there was only one way she'd eventually be able to. It was bold. Probably the boldest thing she'd ever done. Personally anyway. Since meeting him, she kept topping herself in things she thought she'd never do.

What was one more thing?

She dialed his number and waited, not fully understanding why she wasn't nervous. Not knowing what it was about him that put her at ease. Made her feel safe. Made her feel she could trust him with anything. It rang two-and-a-half times before she heard his voice.

"Joss?"

She heard it in that single word. He hadn't been asleep either. "Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

John waited several beats, almost asking again before he realized he already knew. She had probably been lying awake thinking about what happened just like he was. Except she was probably about to turn him and everything he wanted with her down now that she'd had some time to think. She probably couldn't sleep because she needed to get it off her chest. But before his thoughts could plummet any further, he heard her soft voice.

She swallowed. "Does it have to be your bed?"

Had he heard her correctly? His heart hammering in his chest and the drumming in his ears told him he had. He licked his suddenly dry lips. "No...it doesn't have to be."

"I can't sleep."

He swallowed, the action doing nothing to soothe his dry throat. "What do you need?"

She didn't hesitate. There was no point. "You."

He rose from his bed and headed toward his closet. "I'm on my way."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, she lay there, in the same spot, still staring at the ceiling. Nervousness beginning to creep in. Excitement. Anticipation. Because she was really going to do this. And she was ready. As much as she had risked for him in the past several months, it was going to be easy giving him her body. It was going to be easy letting go. Because she trusted him. And that trust ran deep.

Another five minutes passed. Another five spent imagining what it was going to be like. Wondering if he would take the same approach he took to his life's mission. Wondering if he'd be controlled, assured, deliberate, methodical. Selfless, focused, confident. Highly skilled. Stopping only once the job was complete. The mission accomplished. Or would he show her the other side of him. The more relaxed side that cooked lasagna, read mystery novels, and loved strawberry ice cream. Would he be soft, gentle, tender? Playful? Relentlessly teasing? Would he take his time, make it last as long as either of them could stand it? Would he relinquish control, let her pleasure him until he trembled all the way down to his toes?

She got up from the bed. Restless now. Impatient. She unlocked the front door and took the chain off so he could slip in quietly, looking down the hall to make sure the light was off in Taylor's room. She retreated back to her bedroom, went to the attached bath and turned the light on, looking at herself in the mirror. Still surprised at her actions. Wondering who the person was staring back at her. So much had changed. Pretty much her entire world. Ever since he saved her life. She bit her bottom lip. Went over herself mentally. Everything was waxed, shaved. Skin smooth and moisturized. Lightly scented with her signature fragrance. Long ago forgotten IUD still in place. She tugged at the tank and short set she slept in when the weather was warm. It was simple. Gray. A little worn. She thought about changing for a second but decided against it. He would probably arrive any minute, and she didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. And she didn't think he was going to be too focused on what she was wearing anyway. She certainly wasn't going to be giving a damn about his clothes.

John closed the door softly behind himself, locking it and replacing the chain. He'd knocked softly but apparently it hadn't been loud enough. And since he'd found the door to be unlocked, he figured she wanted him to let himself in. He was trying to be as quiet as possible, never having had to sneak into a woman's home to have sex with her while her teenage son was in the house before. It was definitely a new experience for him. Exciting. But the one he was about to have was going to top it. He was sure of that. He was going to make sure of that. He took the few steps to her bedroom, closing the door as his eyes zeroed in on the light emanating from her bathroom. He took the steps that would lead him to his target. He stopped in the doorway and looked at her. She noticed him immediately, turning to face him. His arousal, having been rampant since her phone call, increased a hundredfold. He continued to watch her as she watched him. It wasn't going to be long now.

She took him in. Burned into her memory the _Before_ picture. His navy polo shirt, deep gray slacks. For a split second she regretted not asking to see his closet earlier. "Took you awhile." She watched as a smirk found its way to his face. She watched as it stayed there while he slowly pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. She watched as he reached down and took off each of his shoes and socks. Her eyes followed his hands as he unbuttoned his pants, lowering the zipper before pushing them down his long legs. She watched as his briefs followed and he stepped out of the small pile of clothing, her desire gushing from between her legs.

He watched her take him in. "Am I forgiven?" The low rumble of his voice sent another liquid rush out of her.

If she hadn't been so distracted, she would have rolled her eyes at his cockiness, at the self-satisfied smirk still plastered on his handsome face. She looked down. But yes. Yes, he was forgiven. While he wasn't in the porn star league, he was almost certainly going to present a delicious challenge. It had been so long for her.

And she always welcomed a good challenge.

She walked over to him, hand immediately reaching for his pulsating erection. She held the weight in her hand, stroking him as she looked up into his face. The smirk was gone now. The muscles in his jaw tightening as he tried not to succumb to the pleasure, tried not to give up his power so early on in the game. "You're forgiven." She watched his eyes, saw the warning in them, and immediately wanted to test his limits. She was about to lower herself to her knees when she was stopped.

He pulled her face up to his and licked her upper lip before sucking the bottom one into his mouth. He pulled back and stared into her eyes, wondering if she knew this was the first and last respite she was going to get. He took his hands from her face and lowered them to her rear, marveling as he gently squeezed. He still couldn't believe how luscious it was.

Taking a few steps back through the doorway, he moved to his right and forced her back against the open bathroom door, needing her against the nearest hard surface he could find. He took command of her mouth, kissing her insistently while he slid her shorts and panties down her legs. His hands slid underneath her tank and squeezed her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples before he separated his mouth from hers and slipped the garment above her head. He placed his hands on her waist, bending down until his mouth was at her ear. "I'm about to make it up to you." It was the only warning she got.

It happened so fast. She was lifted one second and impaled the next. She screamed internally, only a squeak escaping her lips, promptly muted by the penetration of his tongue in her mouth, the burn alleviating as he made a meal out of her lips and tongue. She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their lower halves unmoving as he kissed away any and all discomfort. Completely out of breath, she tore her lips away from his, the intensity of it all leaving her slightly disoriented.

Panting, he pierced her eyes with his. "Okay?" He watched as she nodded. Hands gripping her ass, he pushed away from the door and carried her to her bed, climbing onto his knees and moving them until he could place her head on her pillow. Raising himself onto his elbows, he kept his eyes on hers as he slowly slid out and back into her three times. Familiarizing himself. Coaxing her open. On the third stroke, he closed his eyes. Took a moment to believe it was really happening. That he was most definitely inside her. Savored the feel of his newfound home. After several moments, he felt her hand slide down the side of his face and reopened his eyes. He saw it in hers, too. She understood.

He reached down on either side of him, pulling her thighs up and apart, hooking his arms underneath the backs of her knees, pressing forward until his chest nearly met hers and her knees damn near met the mattress. He buried his face in her neck and began to move, quickly increasing his pistoning. He went from zero to sixty in no time, giving her everything in him. Everything he had.

She struggled. She struggled not to cry out. Her hands held his head at her neck as his name and every curse word known to man, maybe even some in different languages, ran through her head, ready to roll off her tongue. He was relentless. Like a dog with a bone. She lowered her hands and clawed at his back, one of those words finally escaping. She didn't know how loud it was but it was fast becoming impossible to hold back.

He slowed it down for a minute, trying to make it last, trying to contain his vocalizations, which was one of the reasons he was keeping his face buried between the pillow and her neck. To drown out the noises he couldn't believe he was making.

_Fuck!_ Her tiny reprieve was soon over. He was at it again. Fast and furious. She desperately reached her right hand out, trying to find the other pillow to smother her face in. She needed to scream. Her orgasm was coming. She was becoming delirious. She couldn't reach it. Couldn't reach anything. And John was refusing to let up.

She felt him finally lift his head, the light from the bathroom enough to illuminate his face. Through her haze she could see he was struggling, too. She held his eyes and saw the moment he gave up the fight. His left hand lowered between their bodies. The second his thumb swept across her clit, his name involuntarily left her lips, reverberating off the walls. Before anything else could leave her mouth, he slammed his onto hers. When he stopped feeling the cries in his mouth, he released her lips, thrust into her a few more times, stiffened, and buried his face in the pillow to scream out his own release.

By the time she finally came back down to Earth, Joss was positive a good fifteen minutes had passed since her seismic orgasm. She looked to her left. The clock read 3:47. She moved her head back again. It was pretty much all she could move. Her bones felt like jelly. And John's dead weight was still on top of her. She looked to her right, where his head was. He hadn't moved. Not an inch. If she hadn't felt his heart beating through his chest, she would have been worried. "John?"

He grunted in response.

"I can't breathe."

"Sorry." He weakly rose onto his elbows, withdrew from her, and fell over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He had underestimated what she was going to take out of him. He had planned on going all night. Exploring every inch of her delectable body. It was how it went in his head anyway. But he had to admit defeat. He had had all the control but she still won.

Too tired to utter another word, he pulled her to his side, weakly wrapping one arm around her. Expending what little energy he had to kiss her forehead, he quickly lowered his head and drifted off immediately. She soon followed suit.

* * *

Reese awoke with a start, eyes immediately trying to focus on his watch. Vision still a little blurry from his deep slumber, he raised his head and looked across Carter's still form at the clock on her nightstand. _9:47_. He lowered his head back onto the pillow. He hadn't slept this late in ages. Even if he didn't fall asleep until five in the morning, his body always woke him up no later than eight.

He sighed softly as he stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. His thoughts drifted back to last night's activities. He smiled to himself before turning his head to look at her. The reason he was waking up with a smile on his face. She was on her side, facing away from him. The sheet and comforter covered them both, somehow making it over them in their sleep. He raised himself onto his left elbow and used his right hand to slide the covers down to her waist. He kissed her shoulder and ran his hand up and down her bare arm. "Joss?" He kissed her shoulder again, beginning to feel the stirrings below his waist. During last night's frenzy, he hadn't gotten the chance to look at her. Just look. Run his eyes over every inch of her. His hands. It wasn't too late. He ran his hand over her stomach. "Joss." Once she stirred, he let his hand wander from her stomach to her breasts, her back still to him. She roused further. "You awake?"

He heard her grunt and shifted slightly when she rolled onto her back. Her eyes were still closed but he knew she was awakening. He continued to let his hand roam freely along her torso. "Morning." He smiled at the second grunt he received from her. He assumed that one was for "Good morning." He ran his hand over her lower abdomen, about to help her wake up in his own special way. "When does Taylor get up?"

"Hmm?"

He leaned over and planted kisses on her belly, asking again between kisses.

Carter opened her left eye and looked at the clock to her left. She groaned again. "'Leven."

"Hmm?" He continued kissing her, dipping his tongue in her belly button.

She cleared her throat and closed her eye, deciding to try to put some effort into speaking clearly. "Usually around eleven."

Reese quickly calculated that he had about an hour before he needed to be gone. He kissed along her hip, unceremoniously flinging the covers all the way off their bodies.

It was time for breakfast.

He quickly settled himself between her thighs and dove in. Her soft moans, steadily increasing in quantity and volume, urged him on as he drove tongue and fingers, fingers and tongue, into her steadily. Repeatedly. Vigorously. Her soft cries stimulated him as they continued to explore her inner sanctum and outer folds, teasing that spot where they would eventually bring it all to a satisfying and explosive conclusion.

Carter reached out to her sides, grabbing at the sheets, arching her back, trying not to claw at his head. If she hadn't been fully awake a few moments ago, she was now. She raised her head, watching his between her thighs, the sight ratcheting up the intense pleasure, making her chest heave as she tried to take in breaths beneath the tidal wave of euphoria she was drowning in. "John...Jesus." She was whimpering. He had her whimpering now. It sounded pitiful to her own ears. _Oh god...Oh my god..._. Feeling herself reaching the precipice, she grabbed for his pillow, reaching it this time. She turned her head into it just in time, just as she reached the brink and free fell into the abyss.

Washing down his breakfast with the last of her juice, his hard on was raging, jealous of what his mouth had imbibed. He kissed his way up her body as it continued to quiver beneath him, turning his focus to her breasts. He laved his tongue around each nipple, the wet heat causing her to arch her back once again and cradle his head to her chest. He did it repeatedly, wantonly, licking and flicking and sucking until he heard that heavenly call of his name again.

"John, you win, okay? You win."

He chuckled and continued his ascent, kissing his way up one side of her neck and back down the other. He had had to admit defeat last night but this morning it was her turn. Finished with his nibbling, he rose onto his elbows and smiled down at her. She smiled back and ran her hand down the side of his face again, just as she had the night before. He couldn't believe how cherished it made him feel. An oasis in the tempest that was his life.

When he bent down to kiss her she held him up short, placing her fingers on his lips. "Mm mm. You don't want to know how bad my morning breath is this morning."

He continued to smile at her. "Yeah?"

She giggled. "Yeah."

"I'll be the judge of that." He went for her lips again and she turned her head, giggling even harder.

"I'm serious," She turned back to him once she was sure he wasn't going to try again. "I'm sure I have crust all in my eyes, too. And dried up drool running down the corner of my mouth." She watched as he ran his eyes over her face, almost reverently.

"Just a little...It's beautiful."

She knew he was being absolutely serious but she laughed him off. It- all of it- was a little much to deal with this early in the morning. "Whatever, John." She laughed again when he swooped down and took a nip of her lips. She pushed him back, the smile never leaving her face. "Stop! Let me go to the bathroom." She felt him move back down to nuzzle her neck. She turned to look at the clock again and shoved at him. "You're wasting time." That got his attention. He rolled off her and watched her make her way to the bathroom.

Five minutes later she had used the toilet, washed her face, and swished mouthwash across her tongue and palate. She opened the door and found John lying on his back, arms folded behind his head, dick at attention. Her mouth watered among other regions. She watched him watch her make her way slowly to the foot of the bed. She still couldn't believe what they were doing. What they had done. But they had. And they were. She crawled onto the bed and slid her hands up his legs. Reaching her target, she licked the head once and kept moving up his body. She felt the frustration radiate from him as she kissed her way up his belly and chest. Just a tease. That was all he was going to get for now. She couldn't show him all her tricks in one outing. Besides, it would give him something to look forward to. She caught herself thinking in futuristic terms and quickly thwarted those thoughts.

She took him off guard by sitting up suddenly and sliding down onto him. She leaned forward, braced herself on each side of his ribcage, and moved slowly, maintaining eye contact with him. His mouth opened slightly before closing again as his darkened eyes burrowed through hers. She kept her movements leisurely and languid, trying to slowly ease the tension from his jaw as he tried to keep control of himself. She moved excruciatingly slow, determined to have him so tightly wound his eyes would roll in the back of his head before he even came. She soon learned, however, that he didn't like to be controlled, didn't like not being in control, outside the bedroom and in. She let out a groan of ecstasy mixed with frustration when she found herself flat on her back.

Their mouths met for the first time that morning. Tables turned, he was now torturing her. Keeping the slow pace she set. She struggled to fight back. To get the power back. She moved her head to tear her lips away from his and tugged the skin of his neck between her teeth while tightening her walls around him. As the breathless "Fuck" left his lips, she took the opportunity to shove him onto his back again. As soon as she regained control of their fucking, she braced herself again and rode him hard, biting her lip to keep herself quiet.

It was just moments later when she realized that he really could not stand it. He really couldn't. On her back once again, she gave up and let him have his way. She didn't know how the hell he had made it in the military. Being under someone else's command, accepting orders. She briefly entertained the thought that this was a more recent development before all coherent thought left her and she took that trip back up that familiar erotic incline. He was pounding into her, feverishly now. She'd at least accomplished that. She had gotten that spring tightly coiled and he was ready to split her wide open with his release.

It came. She came. And together they were soon seeing stars.

After collapsing on top of her, he let himself rest for several seconds before rolling them over.

They had almost certainly woken Taylor with that one. And they were both cringing internally. She, with her head on his chest. He, staring up at the ceiling once again. A couple more minutes passed as they floated back down and listened for any hint of movement in the apartment. "His room is on the opposite side. Maybe he didn't hear anything." Reese tried to offer some encouraging words.

She sighed. "I'll just see how he acts when he gets up."

They remained that way for a few minutes longer, listening to the silence. Listening to the words unspoken.

"You should probably get ready to go now." She heard and felt him sigh. Resigned. After allowing herself another minute to indulge in his scent, in his closeness, she rolled off him and turned to look at the clock again. Though they still had some time, she didn't want to cut it too close. If Taylor had heard them, and then saw John leaving the apartment, she would have to explain some things. And she didn't know what she would say. She didn't know how to label any of this yet. It had only been twelve hours since that first kiss. Since John had swiftly and impulsively become more than just her friend.

They both climbed out of the bed. She headed to her closet to find a robe while he headed toward his clothes that lay strewn on the floor just outside the bathroom. Picking them up, he entered the bathroom and closed the door halfway, needing to relieve himself and at least splash some water on his face and use her mouthwash before he faced the public. She sat on the edge of her bed and waited until he finished.

She teased him as he stepped out fully dressed, his usually perfectly coiffed hair unkempt. "Toilet seat down?" She couldn't help but laugh as he quickly turned back and left her sight for a few seconds. Leaving the bathroom once again, he smiled sheepishly at her as he picked up his shoes and sat down next to her to put them on. He turned to look at her but she avoided his eyes, looking down at her hands instead. The words were still unspoken.

He reached over and took her hand, and together they quietly left her bedroom. Opening the door for him, she let him through and stood with her hand on the knob as he turned back to face her. She eyed him curiously as she noted the change in his eyes. From resignation to hope.

"Come with me." The _Huh?_ look on her face made him smile. "Brunch."

She automatically looked down the hall toward Taylor's room before turning back to him. "Where?"

"Anywhere you want to go. I'll go home and get a shower and meet you."

"Calliope by 11:30?" It was her favorite breakfast and brunch spot.

"I'll be there." He kissed her cheek softly and walked away, only able to do so with the promise of seeing her again in an hour.

Unsure how a simple kiss on her cheek could make her feel so cherished, she closed the door and rested her back against it, closing her eyes.

* * *

After taking a shower and putting on some casual clothes, she headed down the hall to wake up her son. If he wasn't already. She knocked and waited for his grunt before opening his door. "I'm going out for brunch." She heard a groggy, "Okay," come from the mass on his bed.

She hedged, "How'd you sleep?"

"Huh?"

"How'd you sleep?"

"Fine?" It came out like a question. In case she didn't get that he was confused, thinking that he'd missed something, he followed up with, "Why?"

"No reason."

* * *

Joss arrived at the restaurant five minutes early. She couldn't help it. She hated being late and making people wait. And, honestly, she was anxious as she hadn't quite gotten her fill of him yet. Walking through the doors, she smiled as the hostess greeted her.

"Just you today?"

"No, I'm supposed to be meeting- I see him." Of course he was already there. He probably couldn't help himself either.

"Okay."

"Thanks." She took her time walking to the booth where he was seated. Observing him as he studied the menu. Struck by how different everything was. She'd met up with him countless times before, in restaurants, bars, parks, cars. But this? This was different. For obvious reasons. They weren't here to talk about someone in danger. And they'd just finished having sex an hour ago. She'd seen him naked, seen the passion and vulnerability he kept well-contained underneath those suits and that cool demeanor. She'd seen all of it up close and very personal. She wasn't sure what to do with it. How to feel. What to even say.

It wasn't long before he felt her eyes on him and a tiny smirk parked itself on his lips as he rose from the booth to greet her and wait for her to take her seat. "Ordered you a drink."

She took a sip of her mimosa and let out a small moan of appreciation. "Mmm, thank you. This is perfect." She picked up the menu. "Ever been here before?"

"Never. What do you recommend?"

"Everything."

He chuckled. "Okay."

They took a couple minutes to go over the menu and decide what they were going to order, stretching the process out a little longer than was necessary. Once their waiter arrived and took their order, it was time to come up with another stalling tactic. Another way to avoid confronting the awkwardness surrounding friends and part-time co-vigilantes having sex for the first time, and wanting to do it again. And again and again. Of wanting more than just the sex. Of wanting to take the plunge, risk of negative consequences be damned.

She couldn't do it, though. She couldn't avoid it. "This is weird." She watched as he shrugged.

"We'll get used to it."

"It's a bad idea, too."

He looked at her and smiled softly. "I've done worse."

She sighed, the enormity of what they were about to do hitting her. She met his eyes. "You sure about that?"

He leaned toward her, his eyes shocking her system with their quick change from playfulness to steely determination. "Yes."

She couldn't help but be sucked in. His eyes could easily coerce things his trained fists would take ten minutes to do. "We really gonna do this?"

"We are."

She sighed deeply. He'd said it. She'd wanted him to. So that was it. It was so.

While she still had his unyielding attention, she decided to test her limits. "You finally gonna tell me where you get your information?" She wanted to get what she could while the gettin' was good. She watched as a smile slowly spread across his face, the playfulness back in his eyes.

He shook his head back and forth slowly, seeing right through her ruse as he sat back.

"Why the hell not? Seriously?"

His eyes changed once more. Became dark and piercing. "I'll let you get hurt because of what Finch and I are involved in over my dead body." He leaned forward once again. "I'll give you anything, everything I have, but not that. Not until I know it's safe for you to know."

Unsatisfied and undeterred, she knew what to do next time. Next time she was going to ask while she was showing him one of the tricks she had up her sleeve. Because if he thought he was going to be in a relationship with her without her knowing, he had another thing coming.

The waiter took that moment to stop by and let them know their food would be coming out in a minute. Carter sat back, granting him a temporary reprieve. She went to start another line of questioning when a familiar voice rang out.

"Carter?" Fusco approached their table. He looked back and forth between them. "You two working on something?"

Reese and Carter glanced at each other before turning to him, deciding it would be futile. Carter answered. "No, just having brunch." She watched as a confused look crossed her partner's features. She couldn't blame him. She was still comprehending it, too. But then she also noticed something else. Something all three of them had in common. She looked in the direction from which she thought he came and saw the woman she'd met before. Rhonda was her name. It verified her suspicions. Her partner had gotten some last night, too.

She watched as the wheels turned and waited for his next question.

"So...you're just...eatin'." Fusco couldn't be sure, but they both looked different. Had that glow he was quite proud to see Rhonda sporting if he did say so himself. He cycled through confusion, denial, and a few mental _what the fucks_ before settling on acceptance, all within a span of a few seconds. He looked between the two of them again as they both pinned him with perfectly innocent looks on their faces. "Yeah, I'm gonna, uh, go back."

Carter nodded and smiled. "See ya, Monday."

"Yeah...See ya." Fusco shook his head all the way back to his table. They had fucked. They had definitely fucked.

Carter and Reese both laughed the second he was out of earshot. She leaned out of the booth and watched as Lionel settled himself back in his seat. "Well, I'll give him this. She's got a smile on her face."

He raised his glass. "Go Lionel."

_Two Weeks Later_

"I don't know why you're not getting in." Joss continued to tread water as she tried to encourage her companion. John had told her earlier about the indoor pool in his building that no other tenants seemed to frequent at this time of the evening. The day had been hot as hell, stressful as hell, too, and he had dangled the pool in front of her like a carrot. Unable to resist, she grabbed her bathing suit, told Taylor she'd be back in a few hours, and headed to his place.

John smiled, watching her enjoy herself in the water. He sat on the edge of one of the lounge chairs, feet planted firmly on the ground as he leaned toward her, drawn to her energy. Fascinated. Totally under her spell. They were alone and he was enjoying soaking her in. The past two weeks had been busy for both of them individually, and they hadn't seen each other much. He resisted going to her place at night, pretty sure she hadn't told Taylor about them yet. Also pretty sure that, once she did, she wasn't going to be immediately comfortable having him blatantly stay over. At least not so soon.

"At least dip your feet in."

"I'm fine."

She shook her head at him. As long as she'd known him, she'd never seen him relaxed and having fun doing something. Simply enjoying life. Granted, neither of them had much time to indulge in such things, but at least she knew how to let her hair down every once in awhile. She probably had Taylor and his youthful exuberance to thank for that. "You have control issues. You should let loose a little bit."

"I don't have control issues."

She floated on her back and closed her eyes, burning the image of him on her retinas. He was sitting there, attentively watching over her, standing guard almost, still dressed in his work clothes, the suit jacket having been discarded up in his apartment. He was beautiful, so strong, and she felt impossibly safe. "And you're overprotective."

"I'm a man. It's our nature to be protective."

"You're too extreme."

"I'm thorough."

"You make me call you when I get home from work."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I'm not sixteen and you're not my father."

"Someone needs to look out for you."

"I have a mother."

"_I_ need to look out for you."

She smiled at that, because she already knew, flipping herself backwards and going under water. She swam until she reached the side of the pool. When she reached it, she crossed her arms on the edge and smiled softly at him. "Thank you."

He returned her smile, the brightness of it reaching his eyes, and winked.

* * *

After she'd gotten her fill of the pool, they trekked back up to his loft. His towel still wrapped around her waist, she headed toward his kitchen. She started opening and closing cabinets. "Where are your glasses?" She was in desperate need of a glass of water.

"One over. To the right." He stood behind the bar, watching her every move. His heart swelled, among other things. The image of her rummaging around in his kitchen in his towel and her bikini top warmed every corner of his heart and turned him on. It was only her second time there and he was already plotting how to move her and Taylor in, as she'd joked about at her last visit.

Finished downing her water, she headed over to the sink to place her glass in it. She had to work in the morning so she knew she needed to be on her way. "Alright. Let me go change so I can- " She felt his hands on either side of her waist as he pulled her back against him. The towel hit the floor. And it wasn't long before she felt him move one of his hands to her neck to loosen the tie of her bikini halter.

"You forgot didn't you?" The low rumble of his voice sent arousing shivers down her spine. He used both hands to release the hooks of her top and it fell to the floor.

"What?" She was breathless. Already.

He turned her around so that she was facing him. "What I said I was going to do to you the next time you came." He had her bikini bottom on the floor before he finished talking.

Oh yeah. She remembered now. Definitely.

He lifted her onto the counter and parted her lips with his immediately. She gave as good as she got while unbuttoning his dress shirt. Mouths never parting, he somehow gracefully removed his shoes, socks, pants, and briefs before sliding her body to the edge of the counter. Positioning himself to penetrate, he felt and heard her moan in his mouth before she pushed him back. He took the opportunity to lift his undershirt over his head.

Panting, she managed to eke out, "I thought you said on that bed."

He glanced to his right in the general direction of his bed. He turned back to her and lifted her from the counter, her legs wrapping around his waist. "You're right." Carrying her over to it, he centered them on it, not caring that the sky was black, his lights were on, and none of the shades were down. Slipping his tongue in her mouth, he grabbed himself and immediately entered her, her gasp in his mouth music to his ears. He didn't move as he took several moments to kiss her into oblivion. Finally lifting his head, a devilish grin marked his features. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Soundproof walls." _And no Taylor._

Her grin was a mile wide as he buried his face in her neck and went to work.

For the next hour, he did what he said he would do. Before doing it again. And she enthusiastically tested the limits of his soundproof walls

~End

A/N: Thanks for reading!


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